


Look Into The Light

by ravensurana



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Angstfest, Canon Compliant, F/F, Missing Scene, what can I say I'm a whump kinda girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27379123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravensurana/pseuds/ravensurana
Summary: As the Trial of the Light begins, Janai regrets the decisions that brought them to this point.
Relationships: Amaya/Janai (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 99





	Look Into The Light

**Author's Note:**

> Some days you wake up and you just wanna watch Ghost on repeat and then write more than a thousand words of lavishly detailed internal turmoil and that's valid.

"We'll let the Light decide her fate."

Janai is stunned breathless for a bare moment at the sheer cruelty of the decision. The smug pleasure in her sister's voice as she pronounces the human general's sentence. Common sense reasserts itself a moment later— _Khessa doesn't know._ Janai hasn't told her anything about the woman. Hasn't told Khessa about how much the woman relies on her eyesight. The sharp intelligence in her darting gaze, the way she can analyze a scene at a glance and respond with the speed of thought.

And Khessa will strip that from her, if only temporarily, and she won't know _why_ —

Khessa's mage steps forward, and for the first time, there is fear in the woman's posture. Alone in the heart of enemy territory, no allies, no weapons, no chance to fight or flee. Janai finds her own posture stiffening, her fists clenching. As though she would have a chance of defending the woman, should the Trial not go her way.

She shouldn't worry. The woman before her is an enemy to Xadia. To the Sunfire throne, to Janai's people. And... and Janai knows how deep the woman's honor goes, knows that only one truly pure would have saved Janai at the Breach, with no promise of victory or even safety.

She worries still.

And then, impossibly, the woman shifts to glance up at Janai.

Their eyes meet for a bare instant, and Janai understands the woman more than ever. Alone she may be, but there is one familiar face here. One person who has inexplicably defended her already, despite their deathly conflict. There is _trust_ in that wide-eyed gaze, despite the tremors in the woman's shoulders, her lips.

She sees Janai standing over her, and understands that Janai will not allow harm to come to her, and turns back to face the approaching mage with determination as Janai stands stock-still, stunned by the depth of that trust.

But then the Light begins to flare.

The woman takes a sharp breath, flinching backward as much as she can, bound and kneeling on the hard metal floor. Janai can _feel_ the Light washing over them, the purest essence of sunlight. It's tangible, wrapping around Janai with comfortable familiarity even as it grows bright enough to squint against. She's known the Light her whole life, though her own soul resonates more with the Heat of battle.

And with this knowledge comes insight. She knows how the Light must feel to the human woman. An oppressive weight, harsh and scouring. Seeping into her, casting light upon every shadowed corner of the woman's heart, her _soul_ , baring things better left untouched.

She flinches from that weight. Squeezing her eyes shut, turning her face away, and Janai rushes forward without a thought, because cruel as this may be, the woman _must_ —

Janai grabs those trembling shoulders, shame and regret flickering within her, stirred by the Light even though its gaze is focused elsewhere. The woman's heartbeat drumming against her fingertips, her breaths short and panicked. Still, even now, the woman opens terrified eyes and looks up at Janai.

Janai's heart breaks at the pain there. She speaks with desperate urgency, but forces her voice to stay even, her lips to form the words as clearly as possible. "You have to look," she insists, and swallows a sob as the woman's gaze focuses on her, straining for comprehension. "If you want to live, you have to look into the Light!"

Understanding flares there, and the woman's chin twitches with the barest hint of a nod. Janai releases her, stepping back, shivering as the woman turns to face the Light again. Jaw set, even as she shudders under the pressure upon her.

She's fighting her own instincts now. Her body desperately trying to flinch away, to preserve her, even as she forces herself to _keep looking_.

_I did this to her._

Janai should have known she would bring this to pass, but she'd been arrogant. Khessa always says Janai is too hotheaded to think through the consequences of her actions. At the time, she'd hoped—what? That the threat of royal intervention would be enough to get the woman to cooperate? That she would betray her land, her people, so readily?

That Khessa, too, would be fascinated by this human, a study in contradictions, a shining light found unexpectedly among those Janai had always known to be her enemies?

The woman is gasping for breath now, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. Her wrists strain against their bonds, and Janai realizes with a sickening wrench that she has stolen the woman's words. Taken away the chance for her to rail against this injustice, to do anything but _endure_.

Janai's chest burns with the urge to run to her. To wrap the woman in her arms, holding her safe against the world. But all Janai can do is watch, numbed by the enormity of what she has done. What she's brought about.

The Light fades out at last.

The woman collapses as the weight leaves her, her harsh breathing loud in the stillness of the audience chamber. Janai makes to surge forward, but she cannot, she _must_ not. Not until Khessa is satisfied.

Up on that gilded throne, one perfect eyebrow rises in disbelief. "A human with a pure heart," Khessa muses, and Janai breathes again. "How... original."

Khessa looks them both over. Taking in Janai's obvious distress, though Janai can't begin to imagine what Khessa might glean from it. It's been years since Janai was able to read her sister, and she's rarely missed those days so acutely as she does now.

Finally Khessa scoffs, waves a dismissive hand. "Just take her."

"Thank you, sister," Janai gasps, and drops to a crouch without a second thought. The woman is still weeping, unashamed. Janai grasps her arms, expecting her to flinch away.

Instead, the woman's tense muscles relax. Just slightly. Just enough that she leans against Janai, seeking reassurance, as Janai pulls her to her feet.

Janai sucks in a sudden breath, an ache spilling through her, sharp and sweet. A feeling that she can hardly recognize, much less name. She scarcely hears her sister's parting rejoinder as she leads the woman from the audience chamber. Their steps slow and careful, as the woman pulls herself back together in Janai's arms.

There is little more Janai can do for her now. She can make certain the woman is safe, well-fed. As comfortable as possible, considering her circumstances. So when they return to the ring of fire at last, Janai wastes not a moment—the cuffs are off the woman's wrists as soon as she settles onto the ground.

She rubs her wrists, squints up at Janai, pained and exhausted and clearly upset—and stills. Looking Janai over as though searching for something. The harshness fades from the lines of her face, and with a trembling exhale, she presses the fingers of one hand to her chin. Gestures toward Janai, with an expression of utter sincerity.

Janai had almost forgotten Kazi's presence. Only when she hears them gasp does she turn toward them, all hunched shoulders and widened eyes.

"What did she say?" Janai asks.

The little interpreter looks from the woman to Janai, something like wonder in their expression. "Thank you."

Warmth suffuses Janai's skin, distinct from the flames around her, within her. She catches the woman's gaze, holds it for a long, long moment. The woman is bowed, but unbroken. Capable of kindness, even here, imprisoned and tormented. _A pure heart._ Janai has never heard truer words.

And in a moment of clarity, Janai realizes that the Trial _did_ find someone wanting. That it cast her own flaws, her own mistakes, into sharp relief.

She turns to sweep from the prison chamber, and vows that if it's the last thing she does, she'll prove herself worthy of the trust placed in her.


End file.
